


Legally Plastic (Legally Blonde!Au)

by crest3dwhiteningstrips



Category: Legally Blonde - Hach/O'Keefe/Benjamin, RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Legally Blonde Fusion, F/F, F/M, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, also its based off the musical, and more to be added because listen, boy!pearl is warner, emmett is katya, i need the wiggle room, im not a planner, no beta we die like men, not the movie, so elle is trixie, so its ru girls but legally blonde, violet is vivienne
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:07:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24730534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crest3dwhiteningstrips/pseuds/crest3dwhiteningstrips
Summary: Trixie choked, "What? You're dumping me because I'm too blonde? Because my boobs are too big? What do you want me to say? 'Sorry I'm not some mousey brunette who's going to jump out the back of the Cadillac', Matthew!" She tossed the napkin out of her lap, completely unfazed by the fact that the entire restaurant was now watching her. She pointed a manicured finger in his direction."If that's what you want, then I'll give you serious, Matthew Huntington III. I'll show you how valuable Trixie Mattel can be!"And that's exactly what she does.(Legally Blonde!Au)
Relationships: Pearl Liaison/Trixie Mattel, Trixie Mattel/Katya Zamolodchikova, Violet Chachki/Pearl Liaison
Comments: 10
Kudos: 53





	1. Omigod/Serious

**Author's Note:**

> I've been planning this one for a very long time. I'm not done with my other fic, I just really wanted to post this one. 
> 
> But uh, it's definitely based off the musical, not the movie, because I need that wiggle room baby!  
> Also, heads up, some of the characters aren't going to be changed (i.e. Callahan) bc i can't just,,, choose a real person to be a sexual predator,,,, ((( and im not about to use a real sexual predator for a fucking fic )))
> 
> also im very sorry if i made pearl (matthew) out to be a dick but like,, who else is gonna be warner?? where am i gonna find the bone structure??  
> also this chapter was tough to write, i always have issues with the first chapter. i promise it'll get smoother as we go on.
> 
> it is very late where i live rn and i didn't beta this so uh, if this sucks, i owe you all one (1) handy. just one no lotion beforehand just my rough nasty farm hands going ass wild. shits like sandpaper.

"I don't understand why you're completely ignoring your signature color!" 

Trixie chuckled at her friend Kim Chi, smoothing her hands over the soft white pencil dress she had on. She shook her head at the pink slip dress her Delta Nu sister was holding up.

"He's proposing! I can't look like I would on any other date. I need to look good-" Trixie stopped, tearing herself away from the mirror and back to Kim, pointing a very matter-of-fact finger in no particular direction. "But not too bridal! I can't look like I suspect anything."

Shangela, her other shopping confidant, called from the other side of the store, a dress in each hand, "What about red? It screams confidence!" She held up a scarlet bodycon dress.  
Trixie bit her lip and turned back to the mirror.

"No, that's too bold. What if the red is too bright, and it doesn't match what he's wearing?" She laid her thick, honey blonde hair onto one shoulder, trying to pose herself.  
"This isn't working either. Too demur."  
Her mini aussie, Dolly, yipped in agreement from her pink purse sitting next to Kim. It wouldn't do.

Trixie Mattel knew exactly what she wanted for her engagement dress - simple, but still flirty. Sexy, but not too scandalous. Bridal, but it couldn't come right out and say "bride." Not like she was desperate, or waiting for him to pop the question, she had to leave her longtime boyfriend, Matthew Huntington III, his pride. So this whole bridal thing needed to be more implied.

Shangela flopped back down next to Kim, slumping her shoulders in defeat.  
"Trix honey, we've been shopping for three hours and you haven't found a single dress."

Shangela's pleas were not unheard, however, with the clicking of heels on the hardwood floor marching up behind the girls.  
"Maybe I could be of some assistance? We just got this in, it would be perfect for a blonde." A shop clerk asked, presenting a silk red dress. It's not something Trixie would ever wear, but she feigns interest as she runs her fingers over the fabric.

"Oh, that's cute. This is a half-loop stitch on China silk, right?"

"Uh-huh." The clerk droned.

"That's funny, because you can't use a half-loop stitch on China silk. It'll pucker." She let the dress slip out of her fingers, the store clerk furrowed her brows at her loss.  
Trixie cut her eyes, "And bitch, I saw this in last May's vogue. If you're gonna rip me off, you chose the wrong fuckin' blonde."

The clerk stalked off, face white as a sheet as she retreated back to the employee break room.  
Without a moment of hesitation, Shangela and Kim burst into fits of laughter.  
Trixie flipped her hair onto her other shoulder.

Trixie zipped herself into her dress, a piece she had bought at a *different* department store. Kim was right - there was no point in ditching her favorite color, the dress was a powder pink, strappy v-neck that showed just the right amount of cleavage. Her shoulders were speckled with warm freckles, earned from hot days spent poolside and the wet t-shirt contests Delta Nu hosted during homecoming. Trixie was attractive, with a perfect hourglass figure and her soft features, framed by her softly-curled blonde hair. She was naturally a little fuller-figured, but she kept herself toned to keep up appearances with Matthew.  
Everything she did, she did for him.

They had been dating since freshman year, winning homecoming king and queen every year thereafter. They were a power couple on the UCLA campus, and the whole school knew it.  
And tonight was finally the night - after Matthew proposed, they'd be king and queen for the rest of their lives.  
There's a knock on the door from downstairs, Trixie can hear her sisters scatter into place.  
She dusted a little more blush on her cheeks and went downstairs to meet the love of her life.

In the foyer of the Delta Nu house, Shangela and Kim meet Trixie with her purse and a spritz of her favorite perfume.  
One of her other sisters, Farrah, opened the door to reveal the Delta Nu President's soon-to-be Fiance.

The governor's son, Matthew Huntington III, blessed with his deepset, hooded blue eyes and his absolutely killer bone structure, he held himself as if he were destined to be set in gold.  
Trixie smiled and strode to the door, Matthew wrapping his arm around her waist and kissing her, deeply, passionately. He smears her pink lipstick a little.

It's fine. She could fix it in the car. 

"You look beautiful, Trixie." Matthew said, taking a sip of his chilled champagne.  
The restaurant was airy, with a warm, romantic ambiance. It would have been slightly more romantic if Wendy Williams hadn't been sitting halfway across the dining room, but the restaurant was a celebrity hotspot, after all. They'd have to make do.  
"No, you!" Trixie pipped up, responding to Matthew's compliment. It's not exactly the sentence she meant to say, but he gets the idea and smiles. Trixie takes another sip of her champagne, suddenly anxious to get to the part of dinner where Matthew does the whole "get down on one knee" thing and pop the question.

"Trixie, I think we both know why we're here."  
She nodded, reaching across the table to hold Matthew's hand.  
"Absolutely. This is serious business!" She squeaked. He forces a tight smile and continues.  
"As you know, after we graduate this year, I'll be attending Harvard law school. We're not kids anymore, Trixie, I need to start taking life more seriously."  
Trixie bit her lip, eyes still Bambi-wide, waiting for him to get off his ass and ask her already.  
"I totally understand!"  
"That's why I brought you to dinner tonight. Trixie Mattel, you're a beautiful, smart girl," He holds her hand a little tighter, Trixie is grinning ear to ear. "It's time to get serious."  
"Trixie, I think we should-"  
"I do!" Trixie blurted out before Matthew could finish.  
"- break up." And then he finished.  
Trixie dropped his hand like a last-season purse. Her face is painted with equal parts confusion and disgust, suddenly aware that her ring finger was still very much empty, and the man in front of her was not on his goddamn knee.

"Matthew, I think you said that wrong, do - do you want to try one more time? I think you got your words jumbled." Trixie stuttered in disbelief. He doesn't try again.  
"I- I thought you were proposing." 

Her definitely-not-fiance-and-possibly-ex-boyfriend shrugged. "I thought about it, Barbie Doll, but I don't think you're the girl for me anymore."  
Her waterproof mascara failed her, black streaks painting over her soft, pink blush as she lets tears fall down her face.  
"You're a Marilyn, Trix," He continued, "I deserve a Jackie."

Trixie choked, "What? You're dumping me because I'm too blonde? Because my boobs are too big? What do you want me to say? 'Sorry I'm not some mousey brunette who's going to jump out the back of the Cadillac', Matthew!" She tossed the napkin out of her lap, completely unfazed by the fact that the entire restaurant was now watching her. She pointed a manicured finger in his direction.  
"If that's what you want, then I'll give you serious, Matthew Huntington III. I'll show you how valuable Trixie Mattel can be!" She shoved her chair out from under her, nearly scaring the shit out of Wendy Williams, and stormed towards the door.  
"Barbie Doll, let's talk about this!" Matthew called back, not rising from his seat.  
Trixie whipped around once more, in a blur of blonde hair and fury.  
"I'm not your fucking toy, Matthew."

And with that, she left the restaurant.


	2. What You Want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Girls! I've got it!"  
> Shangela didn't look up from the magazine, "What, a jawline? How's this girl gonna fold towels?"  
> "No, you cunt!" Trixie laughed, "I know how I'm gonna get Matthew back! I'm going to Harvard!"  
> Silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, I'm that scab you picked off in 2nd grade and convinced the weird kid to eat, crest3dwhiteningstrips!  
> This was a very tedious chapter to write (lots of dialogue, not a lot of fun stuff, plus I had to write in straight old men) but the next one should be fun! We'll have The Harvard Variations and Blood in the Water, and Katya comes in.   
> Hold tight, you nasty stinky whores.

"Trixie?" Shangela knocked softly on the door of the Delta Nu president. "Sweetheart, it's been twelve days, you cannot subsist on Milkyways and White Claw for the rest of your life."  
"Milkyways?" Kim cried, "Trixie, no!"

"It's called coping, Kimberly," a muffled sob through the door called, only for a disheveled blonde head to pop out. "I'm coping." She sniffed.

"You look like you're dying." Shangela pointed out. She wasn't wrong. Her honey-blonde hair was in a rat's nest, crumpled onto the top of her head in a rough bun shape. Dressed in her favorite pink Juicy Couture tracksuit, now decorated with drool stains and chip crumbs. 

"I am." She responded, looking through her dreadfully tired eyes. "What do you whores want?"  
Without rebuttal, Kim handed over a small stack of magazines and a Lean Cuisine snack bar.   
"Your favorite - Vogue, Cosmo, Vanity, Elle, and a chocolate brownie bar."  
Trixie took her offerings with a smile and opened the copy of Elle, only to let out an upset squeak.  
"Look! It's Matthew's brother and his new wife!" She pointed to a full-page spread of a couple, with no overly redeeming physical attributes on either of them. The man in the picture looked like Matthew's half-absorbed twin.  
Shangela cackled, "What the hell, did their parents met at a family reunion?" Despite her rude remarks, she had a point. It appeared Matthew had gotten all the good looks in the family, and his brother had gotten, well - at least he had some semblance of a chin. The girl in the picture didn't even have that much.  
Kim and Shangela continued their sneers, but Trixie eyed the picture, scanned the text like her life depended on it.  
Then, she gasped.  
"Girls! I've got it!"  
Shangela didn't look up from the magazine, "What, a jawline? How's this girl gonna fold towels?"  
"No, you cunt!" Trixie laughed, "I know how I'm gonna get Matthew back! I'm going to Harvard!"  
It's completely silent between the three of them, Trixie smiling at her friends, waiting for a response.   
"Well? Say something."   
Kim swallowed hard and shrugged, "Trix, hon, Harvard is for ugly, serious people. You're model-gorgeous and I haven't seen you take anything seriously since we judged the Kappa Theta Tau wet t-shirt contest."  
"And," Shangela piped up, finally pulled away from the magazine, "May I remind you, you're a fashion major. How the hell are you gonna do this?"  
"I have a 4.0 GPA. It can't be that hard."  
Kim and Shangela stared at each other, in a moment of simultaneous realization.   
"We need Bob." They both said.   
And they were right.

"Have you ever heard of an LSAT?" Bob asked, not looking up from her own work.   
There wasn't written proof that Bob was the smartest sister in Delta Nu, but she certainly had the most common sense. She was, in almost all situations, the voice of reason.  
"That sounds like an STI." Shangela snickered. Trixie elbowed her in the side. This was serious business.  
"You stinky bitch," Bob rolled her eyes, "It's a test you have to take to get into law school. And you have to make a 175 out of 180 to even be considered by Harvard."  
"I can do that." Trixie peeped without hesitation. "I've made hundreds on all my textiles exams this year!"  
Bob sighed, standing up from her busy desk.   
"Trixie Mattel, you are the most stubborn bitch I have ever met." Bob placed a hand on the House President's shoulder. "You've got a lot of work to do."

"157, try again." Kim handed the graded pretest back to Trixie. She's been studying nonstop, all through winter break and well into the spring semester.   
Studying her senior year away, with pre-spring break parties going on right outside her window. It was torture.  
Trixie sighed and took the paper back. 157. It was better than her past two practice tests, but 175 still felt so far away.   
Her actual, official LSAT was in a month. Kim slid her a clean practice test for her next round.  
"Ready?"  
This was going to be a long four weeks.

"I could just run out there and check on things. I am the president of Delta Nu, after all." Trixie watched the shirtless Kappa boys outside her window. The whole world was spinning all around her, but she was frozen in time with her LSAT preparation textbook.   
"Nope! Two weeks ago, you told me not to let you leave this room until you made a 175 on your practice test," Shangela laughed, shutting the blinds to Trixie's view. "You're not going anywhere."

"Trix, it's here." Bob's voice peeped from behind Trixie door.   
An envelope slipped under the door on the hot pink shag carpet, for Dolly to retrieve and hand it to Trixie.  
"Do you want us to be here when you open it?"  
Trixie flipped the envelope over in her hands a few times. This little letter held her entire love life in a single envelope. She was just one step closer to winning Matthew back.  
She peeled the letter open.  
"Trix?" Bob called once again. This time, the door opened slowly.  
"Girls," Trixie bit her lip, not looking at Bob, Shangela, or Kim once she got on the other side of the door. She held the little letter in a tight death grip.  
"I made a 179!" She tossed her hands into the air as the other three girls embraced her.   
"I couldn't have done it without you three!"   
"Just don't forget us once you're the new Mrs. Huntington," Kim squeezed her friend a little tighter, Dolly yipping at their heels as they celebrated.   
Bob laughed, "Well, she still has to get into Harvard, first."   
Trixie stopped jumping up and down and rolled her head back.   
"Shit."

"Hi, I'm Trixie Mattel! Delta Nu President at the UCLA Greek Life chapter and a senior honors student. I hope you're ready for the admissions video of a lifeti-"

The video on the little TV paused. An older man, well into his 60s or 70s, set the remote down onto the hardwood table, surrounded by his colleagues.  
"Gentlemen, do we really need to finish this?" He gestured to the TV, with a snapshot of Trixie in a skimpy sequin bikini. Some of the younger men ogled at the image, only to be snapped back to the meeting when the older man at the front of the room cleared his throat.  
"We can't just admit some Malibu Barbie to Harvard Law School!"  
Another man shuffled through a manila folder, flipping through the various papers included in Trixie's application. "She does have a 4.0 average, and she made a 179 on her LSAT. She's a perfect candidate."  
There's a few murmurs of agreement, but the man at the head of the room shakes his head once again.  
"What about her personal essay?" He asked, tapping his yellowed fingernail on the tabletop.  
"Sir," A younger man towards the end of the table piped up, "The video is her personal essay."  
The older man groaned once again and pressed play on the remote. The little Trixie on the screen wound back to life.

"-me!" The scene switches to Trixie out jogging, Dolly close behind, before dramatically stopping to wipe the sweat off her brow. Her workout outfit is very 80s, with brightly colored spandex and leg warmers.   
"You'll find that I'm an incredibly hard worker, and I'll stop at nothing to get a job done! Just last semester, I judged the Alpha Tau Phi tightie-whitie contest and didn't bat an eye!" She winks for emphasis.  
It is, an obscenely long video.

It ends, eventually, the older man at the front of the room pausing the TV on the final still of Trixie in a pool floatie.   
"This candidate is a disgrace to Harvard Law! This is a joke, isn't it?"  
The older man paced, his leather oxfords scraping at the carpeting.   
"Sir," a smaller man pipes up, "She has a recommendation letter from Oprah Winfrey."  
"I repeat, she is a perfect candidate. She checks all our boxes." The man holding her folder reiterated.  
Another man chimed in, "She's our token blonde! We're diversifying, how many blonde bimbos do we have at Harvard?"  
He waits for the men to respond. Silence.  
The older man rubbed at his clean-shaven upper lip, grey brows furrowed across his wrinkled forehead, and sighed.  
"Trixie Mattel, welcome to Harvard."


	3. The Harvard Variations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm. Matthew's. Girlfriend." She growled slowly and mockingly, Matthew avoiding eye contact with the both of them so he could have deniability if they tried to kill each other.  
> Trixie's eyes still wide, she nodded politely and backed away.  
> "Well, it was very nice to meet you," She mumbled through a forced smile, Katya suddenly behind her in case she fell flat unconscious. "Can't wait to catch up, Matthew."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My brain is full of worms, crest3dwhiteningstrips!  
> I'm alive, but I wish I wasn't!  
> This chapter sucks. I hope you whores like it anyway. I love you all.

"God, fresh blood!" A sarcastic voice chimed from behind a small group of students sitting on a bench. They were, in fact, first years at Harvard Law, and more than willing to talk about themselves.  
"I'm Katya Zamolodchikova, welcome to the hallowed halls of Harvard Law. " She smiled as the students turned to acknowledge her. She's short, no taller than 5'2" with a mop of curly hair on her head and world's whitest, most inhumanly straight teeth.  
"I'm positive you've all worked hard to get here, so why don't we all go around and introduce ourselves!" The frumpy wool sportscoat she has on almost makes the students disregard her invitation, but a scruffy man at the edge of the bench piped up.

"I'm Craig," Craig says, face painted with a lackluster goatee, "I was a communications and journalism major at NYU, but now I'm sure my calling is criminal law." He spoke with a smugness Katya has heard all too often. She gritted her teeth and smiled.

This was Katya Zamolodchikova's last year at Harvard, and having most of her credit hours already finished, this year she was going to breeze by as a TA.  
So long as she could survive another year surrounded by preppy rich kids, here to "change the world."  
That was, in her experience, never the case. Students came to Harvard with their eyes on the prize - a six-figure salary right out the gate.

"I'm Todd," The younger man in the middle spoke up. He was overdressed for his first day at law school, but then again, anyone in a full Gucci suit was overdressed for most events. "I started my career in music, topping the independent charts for two and a half weeks as a 20-year-old before I decided I wanted to pursue a higher education in law-" Katya can tell he wants to say more, but she gestures to the woman sitting next to him before he can spill any more of his guts.

"I'm Tammie! I'm here for environmental law. You know, I don't think we realize how much of an impact we make on this Earth in the short time we're here, but someone has to stand up for the ecosystems of this planet." Somehow, she seems the most normal, yet the most insane out of the group. Katya likes her.

"Well, welcome to Harvard Law, and I hope you accomplish all you set out to do. And, while this little conference has been wonderful, I am gonna need you guys to go pick up your schedules at the registration desk over there." She pointed to a crowded fold-out table, students milling around as they're passed their corresponding manila folders. The three students rolled their eyes and joined the line of impatient students.  
It's not that Katya disliked her peers - not at all. But after going on three years of entitled students buying and partying their way through Harvard Law, she was tired. Tired of feeling like a second choice, a cheaper option. Who the hell would hire her as a lawyer when she was wearing moth-eaten hand-me-downs, anyway?

"Excuse me, hi," a voice snapped Katya out of her thoughts. Standing before her, at least a foot taller, was a real-life Barbie, made of flesh and blood and Prada heels. Katya swallowed hard and smiled.  
"I heard you making introductions, so I wanted to introduce myself." She held out a hand, Katya shaking it a little rougher than she meant to as she stared up at the woman above her.  
"I'm Trixie Mattel. Virgo, vegetarian, jazzed to meet you. This is Dolly." She pointed to the little dog with her head barely sticking out of her hot pink purse, before pointing her manicured finger towards the smaller girl. "Now you."  
"What?" Katya perked up, too busy letting Dolly sniff her hand to remember she was talking to someone.  
"It's your turn. I introduced myself. Now you do it." If Katya had been spoken to like this by any other person, she would have been offended, but the soft smile on Trixie's face and her big Bambi eyes were enchanting.  
"Katya Zamolodchikova. Taurus, not vegetarian, jazzed to meet you too." She smiled as Trixie cackled at her response.  
"I see Charlotte's Web didn't emotionally wound you as a kid?"  
"Hey, that pig had it coming!" Katya teased, earning another big laugh from the girl. Trixie laughed with her whole body, almost yelling as she did. Katya grinned ear to ear.  
"Listen," Trixie began, still recovering from her laughing fit, "I have to pick up my schedule, but it was nice to meet you, Katya!"  
"It's been a pleasure, little Miss Trixie Mattel." Katya waved as the woman turned around and headed for the fold-out table.

Maybe this year wouldn't be so bad after all.

"And here's your schedule and your room key, Miss Mattel." The young woman manning the registration table said, passing Trixie a manila envelope.  
"Thanks," Trixie took her envelope with a smile, "But do you know if Matthew Huntington III has checked in yet?"  
The young woman was obviously puzzled but flipped through her roster anyway.  
"Uh, no ma'am."  
Trixie thanked her once again and made her way back to the bench where she had met the girl in the sportscoat. She rolled her name off her tongue a few times, determined to commit it to memory, but the last name of the student felt sour and stiff, obviously incorrect as she guessed a few more times.  
"Zama-, Zamolad-, shit-"  
"Zamolodchikova." A little voice piped up from behind her, making Trixie spin on her heel, "You were close with 'shit' though. I'm guessing you're not Russian?"  
Trixie cackled, "And you are?"  
"Certified, thank you very much!" Katya laughed and puffed out her chest proudly.  
"I guess you have to be certified with a last name like that."  
Katya wiggled her finger, "It certainly gets people's attention! And it makes hardcore capitalists paranoid!"  
"You're nuts, Zamo-"

"Trixie?" A rough voice interrupted Trixie, flipping her hair to look over her shoulder.  
"Matthew!" Her face lit up as she saw her almost-not-quite-fiance for the first time since he had dumped her.  
Matthew looked less than thrilled to see her.  
"What the hell are you doing here?"  
"I go here!" She smiled, her rosy freckled cheeks dimpled as she waited for his equally enthused response.  
(It didn't come.)  
"How did you get into Harvard?" Matthew furrowed his brow, throwing a glance at Katya, eavesdropping from the bench behind Trixie.  
"What?" The bright blonde shrugged, "Like it's hard?"  
Matthew stared at her for a moment longer, his head practically smoking as he wrapped his head around what he had just heard.  
"Matthew, who is this?"  
A lowly, pointed voice asked from behind Matthew. Trixie was so focused on the man in front of her, she hadn't noticed the thin, dark-haired woman who had stalked up from behind. Her silky black hair was tied up in a tight, face lifting ponytail, only further accentuating her extraordinary bone structure.  
Trixie held out her hand.  
"Hi, I'm Trixie Mattel!"  
The mysterious woman didn't take it; instead, wrapping her arm around the small of Matthew's waist.  
"I'm Violet Chachki," She purred, with a glare sharp enough to cut glass, "Matthew's girlfriend."  
Trixie retracted her hand quickly, face pale as a ghost. Her teeth gnashed and she swallowed hard.  
"I'm sorry, I think you said that wrong, what was that again?"  
Violet narrowed her eyes and drew out a tight smile.  
"I'm. Matthew's. Girlfriend." She growled slowly and mockingly, Matthew avoiding eye contact with the both of them so he could have deniability if they tried to kill each other.  
Trixie's eyes still wide, she nodded politely and backed away.  
"Well, it was very nice to meet you," She mumbled through a forced smile, Katya suddenly behind her in case she fell flat unconscious. "Can't wait to catch up, Matthew."

She watched the couple leave, ogling at Violet's snatched little waist as she walked away. Katya had settled the larger blonde down on the wooden bench, hands on her hips and absolutely confused as to what was going on.  
"Are you okay? I'm CPR certified if you pass out, but I'm not very good at it."  
Trixie nodded, rolling her head back and letting out a deep breath. Dolly seemed to sense her pain, the little dog wriggling her way out of the pink purse and on to Trixie's lap.  
"I forgot about the dog," Katya jumped.  
"Oh!" Trixie perked back up again. "It's just Dolly! Dolly's not a dog, she's family!" She squeezed the mini Aussie's little cheeks, earning a series of kisses all over her face.  
There was a good reason why Trixie only wore waterproof makeup.  
"Well, I don't know if dogs are allowed in class, family or not." Katya let the little dog sniff the back of her hand before scratching behind her ear.  
"I'll have to drop her off at my dorm before class, she'll be upset if she misses Golden Girls, anyway."  
She opened her purse back up, allowing Dolly to squirm back into her little carrying case.  
"What's your first class, Trixie?"  
Trixie opened up her manila folder and rifled through it for her class schedule, plucking out a single piece of paper and squinting hard.  
"Callahan!"  
Katya wiggled, "I'm headed there, too, you could drop off Dolly at your place and I could show you the way to class?"  
Trixie smiled and rose from the bench.  
"Thanks."  
"After you, Little Miss Trixie Mattel."


End file.
